


this life is filled with hurt when happiness doesn't work

by notthebigspoon



Series: Stick 'Em Up [5]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan is down. He's down and his skin is ghost pale in contrast to the bright red blood splashed across his face like a Pollock painting. Brandon grips the cage, shoves it and sends the chain links rattling. When he finally finds his breath, he shrieks, “Get up Ryan! God damn it, get <i>up</i>!”</p><p>Title taken from Pain by Three Days Grace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this life is filled with hurt when happiness doesn't work

When things go good, they're very good and when they're bad, they're horrible.

Brandon has, up to this point, convinced himself that this wasn't so bad. That as long as he and Jalynne were with Ryan, he might take a beating but at the end of the day he'd be okay. Now. Now he realizes how very very wrong he was. 

Ryan had come back to their place after taking his kids to the airport, just like he usually has in the past two months. The past two visits, Brandon and Jalynne had even been included, the last time a trip to the zoo and this weekend catching Ice Age and going to Toys R Us. Brandon had duked it out with Houston with hulk hands that he had ultimately ended up buying. His wife and boyfriend had very loudly said nothing.

But it had been the same. Ryan had come home with eyes that were growing red from crying and had outright sobbed into Brandon's shoulder. Stop being ashamed, Brandon had said, the words ringing loudly inside his own head, drowning out the noise of the crowd. If he'd stop being ashamed and ask, Ryan could have what he wanted and everything would be okay.

But it's not. Because Ryan is down. He's down and his skin is ghost pale in contrast to the bright red blood splashed across his face like a Pollock painting. Brandon grips the cage, shoves it and sends the chain links rattling. When he finally finds his breath, he shrieks, “Get up Ryan! God damn it, get _up_!”

But Ryan doesn't move. He's just... out. Brandon shoves through the crowd, uses his size to break a path and grips Jalynne's hand, dragging her along behind him. He gets to cage door as that slimeball Ryan calls Jay is opening it. They try to keep him out... Brandon doesn't let them, shoves Jay out of the way and charges in, dropping to his knees by Ryan. He's breathing but he's out and god, so bloody that Brandon can't tell what the damage is.

Jalynne is sobbing, shoving Jay and snarling at him to call a goddamned ambulance already. Brandon pegged the guy as a coward anyways but even if he wasn't, his wife is even more terrifying than usual when she's pregnant. It takes one slap across Jay's face before he's dialing an ambulance and Jalynne is joining Brandon, on the floor next to Ryan, touching his arms with shaking hands and pleading with him to wake up.

He doesn't. Not when the paramedics are coming through the crowd and into the cage. Not when they're carefully applying the neck brace and moving him onto a stretcher. Not as they're wheeling him out. Jalynne gives his things to one of the medics and Brandon's less surprised than he maybe should be when it turns out that they're Ryan's emergency contacts.

That's when they split up, Jalynne with Ryan in the ambulance and Brandon getting the truck to follow. Naturally, they beat him there and when he skids into the ER, Jalynne is already sitting in a corner. She's pale and Brandon's cursing everything alive because god, this can't be good for her or the baby and damn it, when this is over, he's going to slap the everloving shit out of Ryan. He sits next to her and pulls her into his arms, resting his chin on her head.

“Any word?”

Jalynne sniffles and takes a deep breath as she shakes her head, “No. No, we got here and they took him back and I haven't heard a word. But um. There's... there's something else.”

“What?”

“Look at your phone. Get on twitter.”

Brandon frowns at her and fishes it out of his pocket, logging into his twitter and oh. Oh this is not good. His replies have exploded with a picture of Brandon kneeling over Ryan's body. Well, from that angle, it could be anyone's body. But that's him no doubt, panic clear on his face and tears on his cheeks. Ryan is less distinct, the blood obscuring his features but if you really look, he's recognizable.

Brandon feels sick.

It seems like hours later when a doctor finally calls their name. He's not sure what he was expecting but it doesn't really matter because Grade 3 concussion, cracked ribs and 'various cuts and contusions' are never going to sound good. They say that Ryan's awake and pretty confused but he's going to be fine. Nothing about what they said sounds anything like fine to Brandon.

Ryan's awake when they make it to his room. He gives Brandon a dazed look and waves a little, saying simply, “I wanna go home.”

“Yeah, right, not happening.” Jalynne says flatly, pulling a chair up to the bed. She does take his hand when he holds it out, squeezing it. Brandon stays closer to the end of the bed, sitting on the edge and chewing on his lip.

“Nobody knows about this, do they?”

“Were you born stupid or is this a result of the concussion?” Brandon asks sourly. This isn't entirely Ryan's fault but Brandon can't help himself. Now that he knows his boyfriend is okay, he can be a jerk again, especially with the fallout he knows is coming. “Of course they're going to find out. There's a picture of me and your bloody fucking face going around twitter right the fuck now. Plus what the hell did you think we were going to tell the coaches? People are going to know. God, I knew this was a bad idea.”

“Brandon Michael Crawford, shut. Your. Mouth.” Jalynne snaps. “We've got enough to worry about without you being negative. We should be thankful that it isn't worse than it is. When do you think Bochy and the rest will show up?”

“Honestly? No idea. There's already tweets from Baggs, Schulman and Co. quoting both Bochy and our agents as having no idea what was going on. What I do know is that we are so fucking dead.” Brandon says, chewing on his lip and sighing when Ryan gives him the puppy eyes. “I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry. Just... get some rest and when they start turning up, I'll deal with it. Okay?”

Ryan nods slowly but the puppy eyes remain intact until Brandon caves and moves up the bed, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He makes an excuse about going to get some coffee and steps out of the room. In the hallway he shoves his hands into his hair, looking around lost before slumping back against the wall and sliding to the floor, burying his face in his knees.

This is his fault. He thought this was a bad idea from the beginning but he never stopped Ryan, even when he should have. He never told anyone what was going on, even when he should have. There were so many times when he could have said or done something to prevent something like this and he never acted.

“You going to tell me exactly what the hell's been happening?”

Bochy. Brandon doesn't want to look up. He doesn't want to see the disappointment and anger that he knows are going to be there. Instead he mumbles, “He's resting. Concussion, ribs cracked and beat all to hell. The doctor said he's gonna be okay.”

“How long has this been going on? The fighting.”

There's no lying about it. Brandon keeps his face in his knees. If he can't see Bochy then Bochy can't see him and if Bochy can't see him then nothing bad will happen. Not to mention he doesn't want to look at anyone when he's divulging a secret that isn't his to tell. “I only found out three months ago. It's um... he's got some issues. Says the only way he can work through them is the fighting. Sometimes if something's happened and he can't go fight, he tends to flip the fuck out. That's why his face is always messed up, the fighting. Cept you can't always see it... makeup, waterproof. Covers the bruises he gets on his face. The rest he covers up with his uniform. S'why he doesn't change in front of people sometimes.”

“We'll talk about this later. You need to go home and get some sleep.”

“I'm not leaving him here.”

“You're on the roster for tomorrow.”

“I'm. Not. Leaving.”

“Crawford-”

“I said _no_ , god damn it!” Brandon snarls, anger overriding his fear of the disappointment. He climbs to his feet, glaring at Bochy and clenching his hands into fists. “I... I can't leave him here. I knew about this and I should have said something and fuck, I could have stopped this. It's my fucking fault he's in here.”

And... yep, he's crying in front of his manager. The door of Ryan's room opens and they both turn to look. Jalynne. She scoots forward just enough to shut the door, clearing her throat and glancing at Bochy before focusing on Brandon. “He's asleep. So... guess you didn't go get that coffee.”

“Crawford... you're not in trouble. Oh, sure, I'm going to drill you and make you run until you puke the next chance I get but we need you tomorrow, especially with Theriot out. Now and for the foreseeable future.” Bochy says firmly, but there's also a gentleness and he steps forward, squeezing Brandon's shoulder. “I know he's your best friend, and I know you don't want to leave him, but what would he tell you to do?”

Brandon hates it when logic defeats him. He wipes his eyes with his hand. “Go home, get some sleep and kick some ass tomorrow.”

“Maybe you should do it then.”

“Yes sir.”

He doesn't want to leave but Bochy's right, Ryan would want him to get some rest so at least one of them would play tomorrow. On the other hand he doesn't want to leave Ryan alone with no one for company, a problem that solves itself when Jalynne says she's going to stay and he knows Bochy's going to stay as well. He's not a fan of the idea but he doesn't have much other choices.

As he drives home, he thinks that there's no way he's going to be able to sleep. Not knowing where his boyfriend is and what condition he's in. Not knowing that tomorrow is going to be a clusterfuck of fallout. But then he's crawling into bed, and he realizes how exhausted he is and there's a faint whiff of the smells that are so distinctly Ryan and Jalynne that he falls asleep before he can even get under the covers.


End file.
